Cute with Teeth and Claws and other stories

This week has been cold, and Maia has spent a lot of hours curled up on my lap. Which is really, really cute until I move my arm a little, at which point she sinks her claws into my sweater and starts gnawing on my wrist.

Actually, that’s still cute. It’s just that those little teeth and claws are sharp. The cuteness is almost worth it, though.

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Also this week, after throwing out numerous false starts, I think I have replaced nearly eight thousand of the eleven thousand words I cut from the beginning of my novel. With most of a chapter left to write, and at least one later scene I'll definitely have to revise if I keep this draft. At least now the task seems completable.

Someday I'll quit obsessing over this thing and make a real attempt at getting it published.

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George sent this to me over two weeks ago, which technically makes it old news I guess, but I just saw it again on my Facebook page and every time I think of it I get excited. There's a release date for the last Wheel of Time book!

...next January.

It's going to be a long wait. Says the girl who was able to read the other thirteen from start to finish in about eight months last year. To those of you who have been waiting since 1990, when the first one was published, well... maybe it's not so long. :)

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Writers' link of the week: I've never even seen Tangled, but I could totally sympathize with Lisa Mantchev's illustrative post about the experience of finishing a book.

Also, here's a fascinating piece from the New York Review of Books on writing as a career choice.

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Music of the week: Thank heaven for nerdy friends on Facebook, who do things like link nerd music I never even knew about. WHAT. (Advisory: at least one inappropriately-dressed comic figure in the video...)



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Random amusement of the week: BookRiot. I suggest Sixteen Things Calvin and Hobbes Said Better than Anyone Else. Or maybe Stop....Grammar Time! Isn't it Ironic? (It Isn't), which contains a rather amusing takedown of an Alanis Morissette song.

Or maybe What I Hate about Being a Reader, although the author of that one neglected to mention the desperate late-night need to finish a book on the off chance it'll end happily even though every sign points to tragedy, and even though you know you should never read a book like that right before bed because it'll mess with your dreams, and sure enough it ends tragically and messes with your dreams. Which was my experience Wednesday night.

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Most of the time I have been sitting here writing this post, Maia has been curled up under the blanket at my feet. All nice and warm... and then all at once, out come the claws and she attacks my ankles. Darn it, cat.

Happy weekend!